


Hell Bound

by Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89



Series: Missing Scenes [5]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Gen, Ghost Spike, Hell Bound, Light Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Spangel-typical banter, angry angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28854207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89/pseuds/Gabriel_Is_My_Guardian_Angel89
Summary: Angel is angrier over Pavayne’s treatment of Spike then he let on.
Relationships: Angel/Spike (BtVS), implied Spangel
Series: Missing Scenes [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112180
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	Hell Bound

Fuck, he wanted to throttle that piece of shit Pavayne, feel his bones crunch under his fingers as he tore him limb from limb, pull his newly-beating heart from his chest and drain every last drop from his body. He hated that he had had to settle on locking the bastard away down in Wolfram & Hart’s lower levels for eternity instead. 

Angel paced back and forth across his suite, from kitchen to bedroom and back again, taking deep unnecessary breaths to keep from smashing anything. He hadn’t been this angry in a long while, maybe not since Holtz had run off into that Hell-dimension with Connor. 

His Childe. Pavayne had tortured and tried to send  _ his Childe _ to Hell! Bad enough the goddamn parasite had been skulking around for centuries, casting the bound spirits of the law firm to Hell in his stead, but to actually try to do so to his Childe? The rage boiled within him, soul and demon both snarling and clawing inside, begging him to go down to the demented doctor’s cage and exact a more painful punishment. 

As he trekked through the kitchen once more, he paused to pull out a thermos of blood from the fridge, not bothering with a mug as he drained it down, trying to quell the bloodlust. He tossed the empty container in the sink and continued his furied pacing. 

He had just gotten his William back, sort of, anyway, and the thought of losing him again so soon had left him filled with too many conflicting emotions. He had decided to focus on the most prominent of them - his well-justified outrage. 

What was worse was that he had seen it all. All of Pavayne’s insidious torment of his favored Childe, laid out before him on the firm’s security screens that he’d had magicked to sense and track the doctor; Spike’s naked form curled into a fetal position as Pavayne taunted him with cruel and cutting comments, his poor William, pale and shaking on the basement floor. Seeing red, he had smashed one of the little T.V.’s before storming off to find the others.

And now, instead of Spike being corporeal again, he was still haunting the building as nothing but a wisp of his former self while the Reaper lay locked up, untouchable, unable to exact revenge on the dick. His sweet, souled Will had given up his chance at getting his body back in order to save Fred. His soul swooped at the thought, his Childe being the hero once again, sacrificing what may have been his only hope of being back on the Earthly plane again, for a woman he barely knew. 

He tossed himself down on his couch with a huff, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes as he tried to push away the seething anger.

He felt rather than heard the sudden appearance of his ghostly Childe, the air displacing slightly around the apparition. He let his hands drop to his sides, looking over at the blonde tentatively. He knew he should keep up his charade and tell him to leave, to haunt him during business hours only, but he didn’t have it in him. Besides, after the day his Childe had just had, even  _ he _ couldn’t be expected to be so cruel.

“Pavayne locked away all nice ‘n tidy like?”

Spike stared down at him from the other side of the coffee table, his eyes a little more anguished than they already had been before. Angel felt his chest tighten at the sadness he found in them, wanting nothing more than to see them light up again, to see his Childe’s lips quirk up with a mischievous smirk.

“Yes. And I have a feeling he’s going to be my go-to punching bag for the foreseeable future whenever I get a little too stressed out.”

“Bully for you, then, Peaches.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, knowin’ my luck, if I had been the one to go through brain-girl’s doohickey, it probably woulda shorted out the city instead. ‘Sides, she was worth it.”

“I meant, I’m sorry for what he did to you, the torment, trying to send you to Hell, all of it.” Angel watched as Spike rounded the table to sit on the couch beside him. “But, thanks. For saving Freddie; that soul may just make a hero out of you yet, Spike.”

“‘S okay.” Spike’s voice was soft, but there was a twitch of a smile playing across his lips as he looked back at Angel, the gratitude obviously affecting him more than he was willing to let on. “She thanked me herself, just now. Said she’ll keep tryin’ to find a way to get me my body, somehow. Learned somethin’ from the soddin’ Reaper though…just, sit still, yeah?”

Angel froze, his eyes widening slightly as Spike raised a pale hand and reached for him. Good thing he didn’t need to breathe because as Spike’s hand reached up to gently cup his cheek, he probably would have passed out from oxygen-deprivation if he had. Spike’s gaze was intense as he focused on where his hand lay, Angel afraid to even blink and risk breaking the moment. 

Spike’s thumb brushed over the light bruise on Angel’s cheekbone, his lips tugging into a soft smile for a few seconds before he pulled his hand away, his eyes slightly less burdened with grief. 

“I can touch now, pick things up ‘n such, so long’s I concentrate hard enough. I can ‘bend reality to my desire’ as that pillock so snootily put it. God, he’s a pompous bugger. Still, least way’s now I don’t have to worry ‘bout fadin’ in and out all the time.”

Angel blinked, the moment over, Spike’s snark a balm on his still-raging soul as the blonde kicked his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, his hands folded behind his head. Spike looked over at him and flashed him a devious grin, tongue poking out between his teeth. 

“Gives me loads more ways to fuck with you in the meantime, Peaches.”

Angel forced a grimace onto his face and rolled his eyes in pretend annoyance at his Childe, not letting on how thrilled the progress actually made him. The new ability, coupled with Spike’s happier demeanor, helped to soothe the demon and the soul, lessening the anger and allowing him to silently enjoy the company of the other vampire for the time being.

“Great, just what I needed, an upgrade from Ghost Spike, to Poltergeist Spike.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’d be bored outta your floofy little head without me, and you know it, Angel.”

“Shut up, Spike.” Angel threw caution to the, well not so much the wind, but at least to the very light breeze, an eddy if you will, and gave Spike a sarcastic smile. “Well, at least we know you’re not quite as Hell-bound as we thought. I mean, eventually, yeah...same as me, but not anytime soon.”

“Gee, didn’t know you cared. Warms my cold, dead heart, it does.”

“I thought I told you to shut up.”


End file.
